


Something About Runaways

by chillbill3



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Raven!Neil, trans!neil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:22:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7216738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chillbill3/pseuds/chillbill3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neil Josten comes to the foxes as a runaway in disguise knowing it won't be long before he is found. Only, this time he runs from Castle Evermore, not Baltimore. A trans boy, given to the Master as Natalia Wesninski, he is forced to run. He's a Raven to the end, but he'll do whatever it takes to survive.</p><p>this should have been title Castle NEvermore (quick joke before you lodge into pain and suffering)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Three

**Author's Note:**

> First note: This chapter is pretty violent because it starts with the breaking of Kevin's hand. However, the following chapters will not be violent.  
> Second note: This fic is from the perspective of Neil. While Neil is a boy, in the first chapter, he goes by she/her pronouns and uses his birth name. While in the Nest, he doesn't consider, and won't let himself consider, himself a boy.

The first half of the season was over, and the Winter banquet would be held by the Ravens. They would be moving on to the semifinals, then the finals. The third and fourth spots had been taken by the the USC Trojans and Georgia State. Penn held the number two spot in the league, and the Ravens, unsurprisingly, were in first. The master accredited the number one ranking to Kevin, said Kevin was the true number one. Natalia saw how that worked out. 

Before the Winter Banquet was one of the few times the locker rooms were unoccupied . The Ravens had stopped practices to allow for the court to be prepared and were getting ready. There were matching outfits for the whole team; black suits and dresses. Everything down to the cufflinks and bobby pins were identical. Two years younger than Kevin, Riko, and Jean, Natalia still wasn’t on the roster. It was probably the only time she would ever be alone in the Nest. Despite the partner system, Jean was getting ready and would be at the banquet, without her. Even the all seeing eyes of the Master would be out there. Natalia was free to do as she wished. 

No one would enter the locker room. If anyone did, it would be a rival team changing for the banquet, then, the road. But they would be in those dedicated to opposing teams or, if those were occupied, the girls locker room. The boys locker room was vacant. Pulling out bandages, she knew she was breaking some unsaid rule. Carefully wrapping the bandages around her chest, she covered everything completely, flattening her chest. Jean had seen do this her once and chastised her. In a way, he understood what she was doing, and he didn’t approve. How could he not see her; they were partners. Everything they did, every moment of their lives was together. 

Finished binding, her chest was no longer visible. Shirt pulled down almost as nothing was there to begin with. Hair pulled in a bun behind her head and chest flattened out completely, there was a sort of peace for a moment. As she looked in the mirror, Natalia was gone. 

Footsteps approached, and stomping feet pulled her from her reverie. She struggled to remove her bindings. When the door slammed open, she hid. 

Riko and Kevin came in, Kevin looking anxious as he always did when he had played just a little too well. Then it happened.

God, she wanted to have the image bleached from her eyes. Riko grabbed his racket and struck Kevin with it, knocking him harshly to the ground. Blood spilt across the floor with a cracking sound. Kevin grunted but didn’t dare to scream. Natalia had seen it before, often, but it had never been like this. She had never seen that look in him, never seen him so intent to destroy and never towards Kevin. He was always cruel, but not once in the eight years they lived together had she seen him like this. 

Riko kicked viciously, constantly, not caring when he heard the cracking, not caring about the blood on the floor, not even enjoying his punishing like he always seemed to. He picked up the racket again, and Natalia wanted to cover her eyes, wanted to run away, but she couldn’t. If she tried, she’d be spotted, found hiding in the locker room. Natalia couldn’t risk having Riko’s attention turn to her. She kept watching as Riko struck Kevin again. The racket collided with his back. 

Three more times Riko brought up his racket. It was a heavy racket usually used by defenders, considered too heavy to be maneuvered quickly on offense. But used correctly, on court it was unforgiving and deadly in a strikers hands. In Riko’s hands it became as unforgiving and deadly in the locker room. There was no chance for Kevin on the ground. Curled up in a ball, even if he hadn’t given up on defending himself, he no longer could. He was too hurt. Natalia knew, and Riko knew too, there was no chance of Kevin playing in the upcoming tournament. There was no hope of him recovering in time, and by the look in Riko’s eye, he didn’t care. Tonight he was out for blood.

Riko swung again, harder, enough force to kill. The racket created a harsh sound swinging down, as the air rushed through it. Despite the gagging, the heavy breathing, the cries echoing off the lockers, the sound of the racing racket made all other noises seem silent. Time stopped as it crashed down, enough force to crush a skull, colliding with the locker room tiles, three inches from Kevin’s head. The racket bounced as Riko let it go. Grimacing as if in pain, Riko chose instead to raise his feet, Bringing them down like a thundering rain. First on his back, then shoulders, then arms, then–

One stomp to Kevin’s left hand, and that was it. It was over. Everything they had worked for was over. Every lap taken, every shot made, every exy ball picked up, it was all gone. The perfect court was over. Kevin would never play again.

Riko kept stomping.

Natalia’s heart stopped. The perfect court was over. Number two was gone. How long before number three was too? Her cheek bone grew numb. Ice worked its way up her arms, a frost settled over her, but her feet were fire. She wanted to, needed to run. 

Riko looked down at his masterpiece and smiled. Blood on the ground, bones protruding. Kevin was unconscious. God only knew if he was dead. Riko left, and Natalia made her escape. She assumed Jean would take him to his room, and went back to the banquet. No one else had been in that room. No one else knew. Riko was there, and so was Kevin. Natalia there too, hiding. Jean took Kevin to the room. They were the only four who knew. Marked on the cheek–1, 2, 3, and 4–they were the only ones who knew. The last match of the perfect court: Riko vs. Kevin, and it was all over. Standing, hiding, by the waitstaff, still a year too young to be on the roster, Natalia went back to watching the banquet from the sidelines. 

Riko had been conversing politely with Michael Bryant, chatting about the upcoming tournament, joking about what would happen in their game against each other, and promising to meet him on court at the final match. The Raven’s were talking to the other teams, grouped in their usual pairs. Everything was normal except they were missing Kevin. But the banquet was over, and everything was not normal. But the banquet was over, and nothing was normal. Kevin was gone.

 

Fifteen feet in front of the door to the Nest and five feet the left, Jean held Riko in conversation. Natalia noted the slightly nervous way he stood, arms straight, hands perfectly still. Despite the forced looseness to his body, practiced from years of training, Jean couldn’t escape the way his hands became perfectly still with anxiety. Growing up together as the only kids in the nest, they knew each other too well. 

The placing of their conversation was just as subtle. Far enough in from the door that it didn’t seem like Jean was just standing in Riko’s way of it and far enough to the side so that Riko wasn’t staring at it. It was probably just to give Kevin some time to cool off before Riko went at him again. He probably needed it right then, he probably needed help too. 

Bandages were abundant around the Nest. There was a first aid kit and a stack of bandages in every room neatly tucked in the cupboard. Although, the supply in Kevin’s room was most likely used up by then, and from what she saw, Kevin’s bandages were going to need changing already. Stopping in the room she shared with Jean, Natalia grabbed as many bandages as she could carry and rushed to help Kevin. When Riko would come back for him, he would either be all too cheerful to see Kevin in that state or he would turn violent again. Either way, Natalia would be out of there before that happened. She would drop some supplies, change a few bandages, and leave. In and out. 

When she got there, Kevin’s room was empty. There was blood, a compression in the mattress, a few bloodied bits of gauze, but not a person in sight. Kevin must have been recovering some place else, hiding out in another room. He already had Jean for a distraction. It made sense that Kevin would hide to get just a few more minutes before Riko was there, on him, again. But it was stupid. So stupid. Riko would get even more angry having to look for him; there would just be more, harsher punishment. 

Looking for Kevin, the only thing she found was his absence. Every room in the hall was empty. The other hall was already filled with the rest of the Ravens, filing back into their rooms. If he was there, everyone would already know. The kitchen and common rooms were empty, too. There was a chance he had just been in the bathroom. He had obviously been in his room; he was probably back there now. 

Back at the room, it was obvious. Kevin was gone. The room was empty. He was gone. Natalia was no idiot. He wasn’t on the court; he wasn’t in the stands; he hadn’t snuck out for a midnight jog. Kevin was gone, and she was standing in his room all alone. God, she really was an idiot. She had to get out of there. 

That realization came too little, too late. Much too late. Turning around, bandages still in hand, she she was in front of Riko.

“Where is he?” It was a growl and a command more than a question. Riko’s arm was slightly bent at the ready to strike and his back a bit too straight, as it was whenever he commanded attention.

“I don’t know.” 

Her answer only infuriated him more. She was standing in a room covered in Kevin’s bloodied gauze and bandages holding new ones. It was too suspicious, as if the planets aligned just to spite her.

“I’ll ask you again: Where is he?” 

“I don’t know. I just came back, and he was gone. I wasn’t here. I was at the banquet.” It was a plea and she knew it. There was no dignity in her words, and she couldn’t stand it.

He grabbed her hair and yanking her up with the fist in her hair. 

“Really? Because I didn’t see you at the banquet, and if you were there, then you wouldn’t be in this empty room with bandages.” 

He threw her to the ground before she could even respond. By now, she had learned that staying quiet and taking the punishment was the simplest way. Get punched a few times then some kicks. Worst case scenario he brought out his racket and there was a concussion or a bruised rib. Beatings happened often. If you cried or asked for mercy, that was only reason to hit you harder. Attempting to stand back up, he kicked into her again. Fast and sharp.

“Where is he, you bitch?” he screamed and kicked again, more vicious than this time. 

Still trying to stand, he kicked again. Then, again for good measure. She couldn’t get up. He took a step forward, leaning over to look down at her. Just like before, just like with Kevin, he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t happy. No, he wasn’t happy. 

The yelling all around the Nest signalled that the rest knew too, about Kevin, about Riko. The Master was out there. She knew his voice, feared it more than Riko’s, and she listened to him yell. The whole Nest was a mess, but she couldn’t focus on that now. She couldn’t focus at all. Too much pain. Too much screaming. She tasted blood in her mouth and didn’t know when it got there. 

Focus. She told herself. Focus. Riko kicked her again. He had the same look in his eyes as when he was with Kevin, but Kevin was number two, and she was property. He kicked again and she curled her hands under herself. Focus. Someone was walking down the hall fast breaths at ragged, legs falling too harshly and not in the right rhythm. Her side was definitely blue right now, but nothing was broken.

In a signal of defiance, she looked up at Riko as he drew his leg back to kick again, but she didn’t get to be defiant. When she looked up, all she saw were the eyes that destroyed. She saw the hungry, angry, ravenous, look on Riko’s face, the face that took Kevin’s hand. Riko lifted up his foot. Not for another kick. Riko crained his neck, looking down over her as he raised his leg, and he stomped. 

His foot fell on the center of her back, two inches from the spine. He raised his heel to stomp again. God, she was gonna end up just like Kevin. He destroyed Kevin, and compared to him, she was already worthless. She wasn’t even on the roster. She didn’t have a family. She belonged to the Moriyama’s. No one outside the Nest knew she existed. No one outside the Nest would know she was gone. Riko was either going to kill her or her career. Either way, she would be dead, or good as it, by morning. 

Natalia looked away from Riko, too scared to watch as his foot, half way in the air, crashed on her body again, too goddamn weak. Looking towards the door, her eyes caught with Jean’s. Staring both with shock and betrayal, she kept her eyes on the door intently. It wasn’t the usual way Ravens stared away, not an attempt at avoiding pain. This was a clear, purposeful stare, and Riko knew it as he followed her eyes to the hallway. 

Jean had been the one to distract him on his way into the Nest, successfully keeping him from seeing Kevin. Jean had also been the person to carry Kevin to his room. Jean had also been the person bandaging Kevin making him healed enough to leave. Jean was also Riko’s favorite whipping toy. Riko stepped forward facing Jean. Unable to tell if Riko was smiling or not, Natalia still knew it wouldn’t be good. He would be worse to Jean than he had been to her and would have been had he not been interrupted. Jean was the one that helped Kevin run away. He had betrayed the Ravens, the Master, Riko. Natalia had no pity for him. He was going to get what he deserved.

But that meant nothing. Riko going after Jean meant nothing for her. He was going to crush Jean, cut him to pieces and break a few bones. But that meant nothing as for what he would do to her after. He could come back and do worse, he could finish what he started, he could move on only to come to come back the next day, maybe the day after that. He was going to come for her. He was going knock her on the ground and and bring up his foot again. Her mind flashed back to the locker room as Riko raised his foot over Kevin before smashing down, then came back to her, just moments before. She had to get out of there. Before Riko came back.  
She needed to run. 

Night stand. Kevin kept his wallet in his nightstand, he always kept at least thirty dollars maybe more, that he used every time he went out in public. Kevin wouldn’t have thought to take it, but if Natalia did, Riko would still assume it was taken by Kevin. She grabbed the black beanie Kevin kept by his bed for cold morning practices, that would be necessary. She took two bandages and a packet of gauze, enough to fit in her pocket without making a bulge and without falling out to create a trail. Her cellphone–she couldn’t leave it in Kevin and Riko’s room, they would know she was gone–she put it on silent and planned to ditch later so they couldn’t track her. 

Under the court was a mess. Every Raven was fighting. Accusations flew and people would either throw a punch or walk away. It was loud, people were moving, those who separated fights only did so to join, themselves. It was the perfect disguise, storming off. Walking away from the room, would seem to be away from a fight. She already had the bruises to look like she came back from one. No one was watching her run, no one try to fight her, a sour reputation would do that. She was in the clear to walk out. Her way into the last room, into the exit, into the escape of the door would go unnoticed and without suspicion.  
Being short and small had it’s own advantages as she crouched down more, below eye level. Once out the door, she sped narrowly around corners, close enough to the walls to be unseen, soft enough in step to go unheard, small, dark, fast enough to show only as a blur on the security tapes of a pitch black court. The beanie covering her auburn hair would keep her as only a small oval and two rectangles going too fast in too dark a place to be easily detected on the security cameras as a face and hands. It would buy her some time, if only a little.

The exit to the stadium would be noisy, opening the metal doors and letting them slam closed. It was a risk, but she was hoping the cacophony of noise in the Nest would cover it up, the chaos would take up the focus, and none would be lent to the sound of the doors. 

Caterers, staff, and other teams had been going in and out all night, and with the state of the Nest both before and after everyone had left, the Master had not thought to lock the doors and turn on the alarm. Maybe the planets were good to her after all. Her exit would be clean, and she would have time before they noticed. 

The expectation would be to go to the city to find help, maybe shelter, maybe a cab. No way was she doing that, but she ran that way anyway. South east of the stadium and eight blocks down, there was a trash can just far enough to make it fairly obvious she was heading that way without it being so far that she didn’t have time to run back. Being fastest on the team came in very handy, and now, it was essential.

Solid black was seeable at night. The lights, however distant, shone just enough to keep the black clothing from blending fully with her surroundings. A dark brown or navy blue would have been better, but black was all the Raven’s were given. It had to be enough, it was all she had right now. With a wide perimeter between her and the stadium, she ran West. It was where the barn areas started, four miles from campus. In preparation of the banquet on the field, the Raven’s hadn’t practiced more than two and a half hours that morning. It might have been more, but Riko and Kevin had taken the court alone. She hadn’t burnt herself out yet. Infact, this was just like a normal day's practice. She could do this.

Bruised ribs, a sprained ankle, a black and blue back, and cuts in dire need of stitches told her otherwise, but she had run injured before. Never this much all at once, but that didn’t matter. She had adrenaline to keep her going and the knowledge that she wouldn’t make it back to the Nest if found. Miles were needed, miles between her and Castle Evermore, and miles she would get, no matter how much her body protested. She would run.

18 miles later, it was close to morning. The Nest’s 16 hour days were no help here. She had been up at 11:00 and the guests hadn’t left until way after 2:00 that morning. It was close to five and the sun was starting to rise. 23 hours awake had been brutal, even with adrenaline pumping into her with every beat of her heart. The miles hadn’t easy on her injuries either. Deciding she was far enough into the farmland to stop safely, she started looking for a place to rest. The Master would send people to the city to look, and if they did come West, she left no evidence of her trail. It would be even harder to search in farm territory without causing a stir, not that they were above that. She would be safe for five hours rest, but then she had to be out. 

A farm a quarter mile to her left looked vaquent enough. It’s shoddy form and lack of paint suggested it wasn’t used often, and the next house wasn’t for least another quarter mile. Chances of her being seen by anyone were unlikely. Determined to avoid any eyes catching her, she sped up, content to make it there before it was light enough to see her.


	2. Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Running Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen, its been seven months but.... anyways, this is a bit of a transition chapter, but its got some stuff to it. neil is still going by natalia, but his /trans/formation starts next chapter. trigger warning for blood and mentions of a fake assault. neil is still a drama queen what is new.

Waking up had not been a good idea. Sure, she had to be out of that barn before anyone found her, but the aches from head to foot said otherwise. Was it worth it waking up? Well, yes, living was a worthwhile option, but Natalia was never a morning person. 18 miles and severe injuries only furthered the point. 

Unfortunately, sleep was no longer an option. 6 hours was more than allotted in the Nest, and more than the 5 hours she had allotted herself to. While it may have done some good for her battered body, it set her back too much for comfort; she was still running. Taking a deep breath, she fully sat up, this was like any morning. Wake up, maybe check some bandages, get dressed, and start running laps. This time there were just different consequences if she woke up too late or ran too slow.

Already awake, the first thing to do would be to check the bandages. Not that there were any to check. The last night was about putting distance between Natalia and Castle Evermore. Survival meant escaping first, fixing wounds later. But, looking down, she wished she had dealt with it before sleeping. A black long sleeve shirt and pants could hide a lot, but the blood had soaked through the shirt before drying. Crusted, flaky copper on a black shirt, not even close to blending in with the rest of the fabric. She could feel wetness still soaking the left center of her shirt under her ribs. The cut was still bleeding after 5 hours of sleep and needed stitches. A bandage and gauze would be the bare minimum, but pulling the shirt up enough to put on the bandages would rip all the scabs that had formed overnight. The other still bleeding cut was on her leg. A torn section of her black pants revealed a deep cut. Not bleeding as much as leaking.

Natalia ripped the the tear wider and shoved a few fingers in, lightly dusting over the skin determining where was cut and where was not. The cut was about 2 inches wide and, luckily, only a few centimeters deep. She covered it with a small section of gauze held down by tape and hoped it was good enough for a short while. 

The last part of the bandaging process was presentation: how to look like there was never a would in the first place. A shower–or at least the appearance of one if she it wasn’t possible to avoid getting soap in the wounds–and makeup were the course of action. But, in her situation, not even that was possible. her bruised face and split lip would have to do.

The barn may have been old and seemed mostly unused, but it still wasn’t dilapidated and still, at least once, held a purpose. A hose had to be nearby. Pushing herself up, Natalia nearly doubled over in pain. No doubt a few wounds had opened up. Scabs cracked as her shirt moved to accommodate Natalia’s new position. She stayed hunched and awkward, attempting to avoid opening more. If she went out in public, her hunch would no longer be an option, but until then, she could do as she pleased. Not that she was particularly pleased to walk in such an awkward position. 

The West Virginia air felt nice and warm for the brief second when she first stepped out of the barn and into the light. The sun slightly burned her eyes, too bright in the morning. 

Turning to her left, the faucet of a hose stuck slightly out of the barn’s side. A small consolation for the lack of a shower or sink. She turned it on and washed her hands. Natalia hadn’t noticed how covered her hands were until the water turned a copper red. Small scratches became visible after the blood ran off, they were no big deal, and in all honestly made no difference, except for the fact that she needed to blend into the public as much as possible. 

Moving on, she washed her face next. Her fingers, caked in dry blood, could only do so much. Natalia took off her beanie, only  
half covering the back of her head by now. She ran it under the warm water and used it as a washcloth. A bit of it felt like home, but she was too logical to be sentimental. 

The warm water wasn’t exactly a refreshing start to her day, but it took off most of the blood, and her face looked clean beside a swollen blue cheek and a split lip. Presentable to go out in public without stopping traffic but still too noticeably different to slip through without being remembered.There was not much else she could do at this point. Natalia had washed off as much blood as possible and bound as many wounds as she could. Though she wished she could have bound her chest, figured it could help disguise her, help blend in more.

The time it had taken Natalia to get ready had eaten up even more valuable time. At least 45 minutes driving out of Castle Evermore on the opposite side from where Natalia’s phone was ditched and farther in that direction from the city and the only logical place to run. Only so many people could be expended for the search. That’s a lie. Everyone but the Ravens themselves could be out looking. That’s also a lie. They could make it a public outing and send the Ravens around, make it a public appearance, useful for the media attention while also searching. In this, there were no absolutes and nothing to relay as fact. There was the hope that most of the Moriyama’s people would be sent to look in and around the city, that she hadn’t left a trail in her run, and there was too much farmland to comb through. But none of that was absolute, and she needed to run. 

Standing up straight and preparing to run broke open more than a few cuts, but they were minor. Stretching her legs as much as possible, Natalia was ready, and she ran. Left of the barn and fast. Running had always cleared her mind. Thinking about the pain, thinking about the chances of being caught, she ran. The sun was hot and humidity settled onto her skin, she ran. Seeing nothing but yellow grass, she ran. The earth was dry hard under her aching feet. She ran. 

4 miles had come and gone. She had passed three houses, a tractor, and a riding lawn mower. A few fields had had more than just yellow grass, but other than that, there was not much.

2 more miles and houses appeared. Mostly in the distance and spread out. Natalia kept running toward them. A risk, but a calculated one. Houses meant people, people who could see her, people who would remember her, people who could tell the Moriyama’s. However, houses meant a road. While a road meant it was easier for the men to patrol and more easy to find her, a road led to somewhere with a map, somewhere with food and water, somewhere she could change her appearance. Lost and wandering with no food and no idea where she was going was a lot more dangerous. Still, she had to hope they wouldn’t search the countryside. 

The houses were a quarter mile apart and then an eighth of a mile and then 100 meters. A small dirt road connected from those leading out of the house, either made intentionally or formed by years of cars driving in and out. A more profound road, still made of dirt, developed, and it grew wider and smoother as it passed more houses. A good sign, it meant a real road would come soon. Hopefully very soon. 

Natalia felt the blood wet her shirt as wounds reopened from her run. The now 10 miles were adding up. She ran more than this everyday, it should have been no big deal, but she was hurt and losing blood. Natalia reminded herself that she had run like this before, practiced after being cut and beaten the night before. Gone to practice to be body checked and slammed against the glass–beaten even more if she slacked off. 

But whatever she told herself, Natalia knew this time was different. Never had she been hurt this badly by Riko, never had she not had the opportunity to wash and bandage her wounds properly in the Nest, and not for 6 years had she had to run for her life.

Blood was soaking her long sleeved shirt, and it made the humidity even hotter. She considered taking off her shirt, most cuts already opened. The black tank top underneath would only reveal more bloody skin, but the air would help the wounds and the absence of the sweater would stave off heat stroke. Another huge risk, but once again it was calculated. Natalia hoped her math skills wouldn’t leave her this soon.

Running no longer held its appeal. Running for her life wasn’t new, but nothing had ever been like this. She had never been alone before. She kept running all the same when she heard a slow truck entering the road. 

She ran faster and more off to the side of the road. It was flat grass land, and a truck could follow her even off the road. The engine was not like the ones she had heard riding with the Ravens before to games and business and such. It sounded more like the cheaper ones often to the side of their cars and busses, and there was a rattling coming with it. Safety seemed on her side, and she turned back to look, not wanting to calculate the risks of that.

The car pulled up beside Natalia, revealing a dusty old man in a baseball cap. His face was little different than scared, eyes wide open yet brows pulled together, slack jawed, but mouth in a firm line. She thought it to be worry. It wasn’t what the news anchor’s reflected when they talked about how hard life must have been for the two boys, Kevin and Riko growing up separated from other children at Edgar Allen, and it sure as hell wasn’t the worried look the Master used when a player got damaged. 

The man’s look was like something she had seen on Jean before. Only once or twice, but she recognized them.

His eyebrows furrowed more, then he spoke. “Good Lord, what happened to you, darlin’?”

The lies she had spun with her mother came back to her, and running with his concern and developing pity seemed to be a good idea. 

“These boys, they attacked me. Please, you have to get me out of here.” The only thing easier than the lie was the acting, already shaking a bit, she really was weak on her feet.

“Oh Lord. Well, I’ll get you out of here. Come on in. I’ll take you to wherever you need to go.”

Lips quivering just a bit, it took everything in her to say, “Thank you,” and she walked around the front of the trunk to crawl in the passenger seat.

“Looks like we gotta get you patched up first I guess. Don't know how much I can do for you though.” Looking down at her, all the little things were clear. The iron crust on the dried parts of the shirt, the hole in it that revealed now red gauze, and the blood on her hands from where she tried to hide it. “Put your leg up on the dash; it’ll help too. Been in a lot of farming accidents, get to be a bit of an expert on a few injuries.” 

Natalia held her tongue and waited. He passed one more concerned look after the babbling and switched into drive before taking his foot off the break. Three minutes of silence on a dirt road with the steady of an engine rumbling. It wasn’t completely new. There were 19 months when she was on the road with her mother before she and Mary were caught.

“I ain’t gonna ask you about those injuries, but you should probably go to the clinic on O’Haele. It’s just south–”

“No!” This is where the lie fell apart, persona of sorts to be more truthful. Her pacifism unfortunately activated by older men and unfortunately necessary for going where she needed broke down with her shout. “I mean, I need to leave here. I can patch myself up on the way.”

“Honey, you’re hurt. You need to go to the hospital.”

“I-I need to call my mom, tell her where I am. She needs to know where I am and that I’m fine. I’ll do some first aid while she comes to pick me up. Then, she’ll take me to the hospital. Somewhere away from here.” The lie burned as it left her tongue. God, she wished it was true. Her living couldn’t be referred to as the good ol’ days, but it was so much better than this.

“Are you sure. You’re in real bad shape. I really don’t think you should be alone. ”

“I’m not going to be alone. My mom’s gonna pick me up, and she’s gonna take me to a hospital. I can’t go to one here.” She turned to him and gave him another look, manipulative and desperate for compliance. “I just, I can’t stay here. Those boys, the whole thing, it happened here, and i can’t stay here after that. If you could just take me to the nearest gas station or convenience store, I’ll call my mom on a pay phone, and she’ll come get me. Please.” That word felt bitter. Pity got you nowhere in the nest, and even less in the Wesninski household, but it was a trick she learned on the streets. Pity was a vile thing for a girl who could fight the world, admitting–begging for help was worse, but her mother would have beaten her backwards if she didn’t take any route necessary to survive.

She turned back and his eyes were bleak but alert. His lips pursed, anger maybe, disappointment another option, but of it focused inward; he wouldn’t argue, and he wouldn’t attack. “The nearest gas station or convenience store, that’ll be Cassepento. About 10 minutes south of here, about 7 or 8 miles.” He turned back his focus on the road.

It was a victory. She’d sacrificed her pride, but the manipulation and compliance were a cause of pride themselves. 

The first two minutes passed in silence.The man opened his mouth a few times before shutting it, closed the window and tried again. “My name’s Jim by the way, James for long, but you can call me Jim,” he chuckled. Natalia knew he was stalling. He had questions, and a confrontation was coming her way.

“I don’t know the extent of what’s happened to you, but it’s over now. Close to it at least, or I hope so. If you need me to drive you farther away, or you need my help getting into contact with your mom, I can do it.” He waited for a response but Natalia wouldn’t answer. She didn’t know one. In her plans, she never figured he’d go any further than picking up a hitchhiker for a few miles in the direction he was already going. 

About 3 miles passed in silence. He kept shooting her questioning looks, and she kept her eyes on the windshield pretending not to notice. 

3 more and he was looking away again. She risked a look back over–he had his eyes on the road for now–before looking out the window.

“Target good for you?” Natalia turned back to him and nodded. Eye contact was hard, but on the outside, it was expected. Riko did it in interviews and on talk shows. Not to the master, but to other coaches at banquets. Polite, handsome, and potentialed, he glowed in the spotlight, and eye contact was the normalcy he produced to the media.

She looked him in the eyes, “Thank you.” She went for earnest, and he accepted it. 

He opened his mouth again, but she interrupted him before he had time to speak. Asking for something required humility not confidence, eyes down. “Do you have any bandages. My legs still bleeding...”

“Oh, Oh yeah. Uh, in the glove compartment, there are some bandaids and a little gauze. Most stuff in the first aid kit in the back.” 

He reached for the glove department with the full of his focus. A change of pace she could trust and the most desirable outcome. No questions, no talking, and collecting necessities. He handed over a handful: some small band aids, barely more than an inch long, 2 big ones at least 3 inches, a roll of gauze, and a half gone roll of medical tape. The guy wasn’t lying about farming accidents. That or he wasn’t really a farmer. Natalia kept it in mind and she started unwrapping the gauze.

“Here, wait a second,” he said as he slowed the car to reach into the back. When he only pulled out a soft cloth wrapped box, she knew better to sigh a breath of relief, but when he handed it to her and she opened it to find only more medical supplies, she was relieved if not at all relaxed.

An alcohol swatch, stuck in a semi plastic wrapping, would hurt, but not as bad as infection. Leg first, she cleaned around the wound before opening another packet to clean the wound itself, adding some cream, and wrapping it in gauze held up with the tape.

She moved on to her stomach, this time doing the same thing but with butterfly bandages beneath the wrapping. Natalia moved onto her face with the help of the mirror on the window’s sun blocker. Getting the blood off her face felt nice. Felt like the cleanest she’d been in a while despite it being less than a day, even by Raven time. She had reached her fingers when he started speaking once again. It must have been 25 miles in from where he first picked her up, about 40 minutes since then, and about 20 from the last time they spoke. The silence would have been awkward if not for her focus on the bandages, not that she minded silence but that her worry would have slipped through and that made the other man, Jim, more unpredictable. Other man is wrong. Just the man.

“Listen, I’m not gonna ask what happened to you. I know your bruises and I know your eyes. You don’t have to tell me not to tell anyone you were here. You’re about fourteen right. I can take you all the way to the city, maybe not all the way to your mom.”

It was too good to be true. Natalia knew it, but she offered up a smile, hoping it wouldn’t be too cold. Trying very hard not to upset him or demand too much, she asked, “do you know how much farther the city is?” careful to keep her eyes away from his and her head down while still being able to watch for a strike. She mastered that long ago. Her father enjoyed it often enough but preferred a certain Welninski aggression more so. It was the Master who instilled it.

“About 15, 20 more miles, but the freeway is coming up in about a block and it’ll be a lot faster.”  
He looked at her again. “Uh, you got a little more blood up by your hairline,” he said pointing at the right side of his head. “Nope, other side. Yeah.”

The man looked a while longer, waiting for a response but when he didn’t receive one, he turned his eyes back to the road. On the freeway, few cars drove in their direction, and luckily there was no traffic. 15 minutes came and passed in silence. Natalia wouldn’t have minded the drive at all if it wasn’t for the threats looming over her. 45 miles from where she entered the car, 18 miles before that, and in the opposite direction of where her trail ended. She still could never be safe. She was 3,000 miles from her father’s house when he caught them. 63 miles, give or take, could never be far enough. Natalia wasn’t stupid enough to try hiding in plain sight. Going through farmland, away from any assumable resources might have been the smartest thing she did, but she was approaching a city now.

They pulled off the freeway and onto more regular, paved streets. Natalia never needed to know anywhere without an exy team, so now, far from any campus, she had no idea where she was. A map was first on her list of things to buy. Water, food, and a sewing kit were next.

Coming up the road, they were about 1,000 yards from the strip before they got stopped at the first red light they so far. Stopped by the light, he turned to her again. “I am so sorry about what happened to you. I know what them boys can do to young girls. My daughter got hurt a few years back. She’s older now and doesn’t live with us anymore, but I’ll never forget what happened.”

That was a threat if she ever heard one. Her senses shut down in a panic momentarily. She hardly noticed when the light turned green, and barley tooned into what he said next. “She’s all good now though.” 

That part didn’t matter. His words before, daughter, burned in her ears. These were not the Moriyamas after her. Her father was coming after her.

“She moved past it, and got better. I know you can too. Just don’t give up hope.”

Mocking and sarcastic.

He pulled up to the shopping center, and before the car even stopped, she launched her way out. 

“Be safe,” he called as she made her break for it. Another taunt and she ran faster. The new threat of her father, just as terrifying as it was old, made her run ragged. She sprinted, breathing labored, head dizzy, body burning, Her father was coming, and she had no hope for survival. She wouldn’t stop running anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if y'all think i didnt go back and edit the entire first chapter so i could make neil's birthname natalia not natalie then you are wrong. next chapter should have neil's transition. hoped you liked it! kudos and comments are appreciated ;)  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> This was betaed by tumblr user @andrewkevinneil (who is amazing)  
> And you can follow me on tumblr @odetcyou


End file.
